


just a flick of your finger

by dedougal



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1766236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When his leg cramps, Jonny gets some help from an unexpected quarter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just a flick of your finger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [homiten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/homiten/gifts).



> This is just porn. There is very little justification for it. Other than to cheer up Ro, my wee darling. Hope you enjoy.

Jonny still took his time with his cool down. The others had rushed through it but Jonny had turned a little awkwardly during his last shift and wanted to just ensure everything was working okay. He was getting too old (which made him smile wryly every time) to risk his muscles just because he was hurrying to get to the bar. 

It had been a sponsorship charity thing, dicking around on the ice. And Jonny wasn’t usually that into charity things unless it was for people he knew and liked, but this had some kind of PR or sponsorship thing attached. So he’d showed up in New York, looked serious and focused a lot and tried to smile half-naturally. The game had been more like a game of pick-up than anything serious, but Jonny was still happy he’d won. His team. His team made up of a random selection of guys he’d mostly played against. It was a bit like the All-Star Weekend but without the epic drinking beforehand. There promised to be significant drinking once all the glad-handing had finished up, though. Maybe even during said glad-handing.

Jonny let out a sharp cut off cry when his leg cramped. He knew he’d tweaked something. He rubbed his palm into it, wondering if he should try to summon one of the trainers. Not that they’d be as familiar to him as his usual guys, but they might be able to help if it didn’t loosen up. Jonny worked the muscle, automatically, hoping it would ease.

He heard a soft cough and looked up to see Malkin, sweatpants loose around his hips, towel around his shoulders, wet hair dripping, rivulets running down his temples and across his naked chest. He looked concerned but all Jonny could focus on is the swing of his dick behind the soft worn material. Malkin had to be half hard from the way the bulge makes the soft, worn cloth distend. It made him pause rubbing his leg.

“Hurt?” Malkin asked, pointing.

“Just a cramp,” Jonny told him, rubbing at it again, ducking his eyes down and praying he wasn’t blushing. He knew better than to eye up guys in the locker room, even if this wasn’t his usual room, his usual guys. He could feel it loosen as Malkin shuffled closer. Malkin then just fell to his knees, hand outstretched. Jonny nodded, trying not to think about how close he was kneeling, how the warm, wet, clean smell of his skin made Jonny shiver. He just hadn’t gotten laid in a while. That was all.

Malkin leaned closer, between Jonny’s stretched legs, and laid one of his over-sized paws over the tight, painful area. “I do this.” A pained, angry expression crossed his face. “I did this. It’s good.”

Jonny nodded, thinking of ice cold lakes and car crashes to stop his dick from twitching too obviously. Malkin’s broad palm covered a swathe of his thigh – and Jonny knew exactly how big his thighs were – with long fingers straying closer to his groin than he really needed right now. But it was working. Malkin ground the heel of his hand into the cramp, the warmth and pressure easing the muscles. Jonny leaned back onto his elbows, spread his other leg wider and let Malkin go to town.

From his more prone position, Jonny could see Malkin’s frown of concentration. It was akin to the type of focus he maintained on the ice, which made Jonny remember the way Malkin had smoothly tricked his way around two of the defenders to slap a goal in without even seeming to put any effort in. Jonny could score pretty goals, sure, but most of his were ground-out and dirty. Malkin’s were a different level of beautiful.

It became awkward to look at Malkin’s face too closely and Jonny didn’t want to stare up at the ceiling. That would be rude. So he ended up fixing his eyes on the trails of water dripping from the end of Malkin’s hair down his toned chest, past the small gold medallion resting in the dip of his collarbone. They trailed down, across his sprinkling of chest hair and down, down to the waistband of the soft worn sweatpants.

Jonny let out a huff of breath, something that could almost be described as a moan, as Malkin worked his clever fingers into the muscle. The heel of his palm brushed against Jonny’s cock, probably unintentionally, but it sent a spiral of sensation all the way up his spine. The world narrowed to the feel of those hands, the flex of muscle Jonny watched as Malkin pushed at his leg, the swing of Malkin’s dick in those sweatpants. Jonny realized with a shock that he was getting hard.

The cramp eased with a sudden release of the pain it had been radiating up and down Jonny’s leg. The rush was what he blamed for the way he grabbed at Malkin’s shoulder, wrapped his hand around the nape of his neck and dragged him closer. Malkin came easily, eyes darker than before, near black now. “No hurt?” he ground out, as he leaned closer over Jonny, his hand brushing over Jonny’s dick one more time before he brought his hand up to brace himself.

Jonny wasn’t used to being caged in like this. He was much taller than pretty much all of the people he’d had sex with. Malkin was bigger than him, leaner and just a mite longer, his shoulders broader. Jonny knew he was cataloguing the differences to give himself time to work out what he wanted to do next.

“Need to say thank you,” he muttered, using his free hand to haul Malkin closer, attempting to line up their hips.

“You Canadian, yeah.” The statement didn’t make much sense but it didn’t matter as Malkin rolled his hips down, Jonny’s hand slipping down to those ridiculous, soft pants and dipping inside the waistband to feel the smooth, warm skin of Malkin’s ass.

Malkin jolted forward, pressing against Jonny. “You kiss?”

Jonny didn’t bother answering, hauling Malkin close and into a messy clash of mouths and teeth and tongue. They slid into a rhythm, athletic, fast, pushing Jonny too close to the edge too quick. He could feel Malkin’s cock wet through all their layers and suddenly, frantically, Jonny knew what he wanted to do. He pulled out of the kiss, ignored Malkin’s protesting whine and mumbled out, “I want to blow you.”

Malkin froze, his mouth working silently.

“Suck you? Use my mouth?” Jonny wasn’t sure exactly how much English Malkin spoke. Sometimes he reckoned the guy just pretended not to know to avoid the press. It would be the kind of thing he wished he could do sometimes.

“I know what blow means.” Malkin kissed him quickly. “I stop in case I come before.” Jonny’s hips punched up almost unconsciously.

They scrambled back, Malkin leaning up against a weight bench, elbows hooked over the edge, while Jonny worked his sweats down. Malkin hadn’t been hard earlier. He was just… endowed. Jonny looked forward to the challenge, kneeling between Malkin’s parted thighs, only to be stopped by Malkin’s hands on his shoulders. “Off?”

“Yeah.” Jonny stripped off his shirt and wriggled out of his loose shorts as he knelt down again. It was a risk, being this naked, doing this here. But they were alone and the door was closed and…fuck. Jonny could barely think straight as he wrapped his lips around the head of Malkin’s cock. He played with the foreskin for a moment before getting serious and swallowing down, using his hand for the rest. He had to speak later, or else Jonny knew he’d be trying to swallow as much as he could. It had been a while since he’d tried to deep throat anyone but the thought of it had Jonny grinding his palm against his dick. Malkin’s cock was fucking gorgeous.

Malkin controlled himself well – better than Jonny himself could manage – hands soft in Jonny’s hair, hips only twitching upwards when Jonny flicked his tongue across the slit. Then Malkin let out a low groan and pushed at Jonny’s shoulder in warning. Curiosity more than anything had Jonny rearing back onto his heels and stripping Malkin’s cock hard and fast. It was only when he leaned in to kiss Malkin, let him taste himself on Jonny’s lips that Malkin let out a low string of curses in Russian, spilling over Jonny’s hand and his belly.

Jonny licked idly at his palm as Malkin panted, his chest heaving in and out, his abs quivering. It was a good look for him, cheeks flushed red and his hair damp again, curling against his temples. Malkin hauled Jonny closer for another kiss, tongue fucking into Jonny’s mouth, long fingers clutching tight against Jonny’s shoulders.

“I have plan,” he muttered, when Jonny pulled back. “Turn.”

It took a moment for Jonny to understand what Malkin wanted but he finally got himself arranged in the vee of Malkin’s legs, his thighs hooked wide over Malkin’s. He rested back against Malkin’s chest, his cheek pressed to Malkin’s. He felt exposed, a feeling that doubled when Malkin dropped his hand to play with his balls, stroking a delicate knuckle over the soft skin.

“I fuck you. If we have longer time.” Malkin’s voice was rough, his breath hot against Jonny’s ear. His fingers pressed below Jonny’s balls. “Stretch you out good.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jonny didn’t really want to find more brain cells to come up with a coherent response, especially when Malkin tweaked a nipple before wrapping his other hand around Jonny’s cock. He set a hard, fast, almost rough pace, completely at odds with the way his fingers were gently stroking lower and lower, until the callused pad of Malkin’s forefinger brushed over his asshole. Jonny came with a shout, one he bit down on almost immediately. He didn’t need anyone else coming to see what the noise was.

Malkin rubbed at his thighs as Jonny came down, kissing at his neck, his shoulder.

“Need shower. Again.” Malkin wasn’t really grumbling as he licked the seat from Jonny’s neck. 

Jonny reluctantly got to his feet, hooking his shorts back on. He didn’t bother with his shirt. Malkin was grinning at him from the mat. “Shower sounds good.”

“You shower with me?” Jonny hesitated for a moment before nodding. He remembered where he was but there was something in him that didn’t care. It wasn’t like he had anyone else waiting for him. “You call me Geno.”

“Jonny.” He stretched out his hand to help Malkin to his feet, admiring the elegant way Geno hooked his pants over his hips. “You should call me Jonny.”

“Yes. Because when I fuck you, is good I call you right name.” Jonny shivered as he grabbed his shirt and headed for the doorway. Yeah, he could go for that. Fuck anyone else who wasn’t interested.


End file.
